Twister: Wizard's Style
by Ibex's Lyre
Summary: It's not what you think it is...


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Twister: Wizard's Style

by Ibex's Lyre

Okay, this is my response to the** WIKTT **Strange Conversation Challenge… (hence Severus and Hermione)

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Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Twister, the Dragonheart movie, several of the bad jokes I inserted in random places, and oh, yes, Harry Potter and the gang. In addition, I am making no money off of this whatsoever.

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Update: I fixed the minor typo where I said they were clinging on to the headboard and backboard of the 'bad'--well, obviously it's supposed to be 'bed,' but I missed that tiny slip the first few million times I proofread… Also, the line 'the Silky Voice that Precedes the Silky Voice that Precedes Naughty Snogging' should be Shagging, as in reference to the first paragraph, but after careful thought (and laziness) I decided Snogging would work just fine, too.

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Rating: Aha, this fic contains lewd remarks, slight innuendo, and a couple bad words. Nothing that a PG-13 rating can't handle, I think!

Enjoy… it's not what you think it is…

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"Would you mind getting your knee out of my groin?" Severus Snape growled in his patented Silky Voice of Doom, not to be confused with his (also patented) Silky Voice to be Used Specifically for the Sole Purposes of Expelling Potter or the I'm Going to Kill You in a Silky (but Undoubtedly Painful) Manner voice often used for tormenting Neville Longbottom--that is, when he wasn't simply just yelling at the boy. It _could_ possibly, however, be confused for the very similar but not patented Silky Voice that Precedes Naughty Shagging. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint, Hermione had yet to hear that silky voice, so she wasn't confused.

"I would if you would move your hands out of my hair."

Snape complied as best as he could, which was probably better than a third year Hufflepuff could do, but, given the circumstances, his effort left much to be desired. In retaliation, Hermione did just about as good a job in attempting the problem of getting her knee out of his groin.

"Ouch," he hissed.

"Sorry." Clearly, she wasn't sorry. Spiteful, maybe. Annoyed, probably. Sorry? No.

"Think nothing of it. I wasn't going to use it for anything anyway." Snape made sure his voice was dripping with sarcasm. So much, so, Hermione could have sworn that she felt little drops of acidic words falling into her hair. She would have looked, but the blindfold made it rather impossible to do so. Instead, she attempted to sit up, but couldn't because of the way he was positioned.

"This is all your fault, anyway. Would you mind shifting to your left? Oomf...I meant your other   
left." Was he snickering?

He was! "Sorry." Clearly he wasn't sorry. Spiteful, of course. Annoyed, that was a given. Snape was always annoyed with something. Sorry? Yes--that he hadn't thought to position _his_ knee in _her _groin.

"Quite all right."

They stayed in that position for a couple of minutes, catching their breaths and trying to see through the blindfolds just exactly how they were positioned. There was something hard against her knee--Hermione's heart leaped for joy. If that was his wand in his pocket, then, and they managed to get it out--

"Umm…were you going to move that or just leave it there?" He sounded very uncomfortable, his voice possibly approaching the quality of his Silky Voice that Precedes the Silky Voice that Precedes Naughty Snogging.

"Well…I was going to but I think it is stuck." Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"What do you mean stuck? It can't be stuck. Ohh…Ouch… Don't move…Don't move! For Merlin's sake don't move!"

"I wasn't going to move. I was just going to…" Now that she thought about it, unless he had a really thick wand that stayed flaccid until needed, that just _couldn't_ be his wand in his pocket. "Ohh, I guess I shouldn't have moved. Sorry."

Snape took a deep, albeit shaky voice and prepared to begin the Battle of the Egos, Horny Adult Slytherin Male v. Annoyed, Not Quite So Horny Gryffindor Woman-Child. "If you could stop trying to help for just a moment I might be able to extract us from this position with the least amount of injury done to both our dignity and our persons."

"Well! Excuse me! I'm terrible sorry I was just trying to help!"

"Stop helping and stay still!"

"Fine...I will!"

That settled, Snape returned to the problem at hand. "If you could shift to the right just a..."

"I thought you wanted me to stay still?" Apparently, despite what Snape wished, the Battle was not quite over yet.

"Just do as I ask please." His voice was clearly pleading.

"Please…? Oh… alright…to the right, right?"

"Yes."

"My right or yours?"

"Yours," he hissed, becoming annoyed himself--or, at least, more annoyed than he usually was.

"Then that would be your left my right, correct?" Hermione began to smile like the Cheshire Cat. This could be fun, after all…

"Just move! Why I was forced into this with you of all people…?"

"There is no need to get snarky! Look……I am moving! See? To the   
right… Besides, if you had kept your hands to yourself in the first place--"

"Not that much!… Damn!"

"Oops…sorry… I could try again." Her voice was pure innocence.

"No…no don't bother! Umm…could you please move your knee out of my groin?"

Hermione paused and thought about it. "No. Could you please move the hands that were previously in my hair off my chest? Since this is still your fault?"

Snape frowned, which was rather useless, since Hermione couldn't see it anyway. "That's not your shoulder?" He gave the firm yet pliant piece of Hermione a small testing squeeze. "Oh," he said innocently, "I guess it's not. No, I cannot move it. My hand appears stuck."

"Stuck? What do you--ugh! Never mind!" She ignored the definite snickering coming from Snape's direction.

"Besides, it's not entirely my fault. I hope next time you find yourself entering sweepstakes on the Owlnet, especially ones that say anything even resembling the words Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, you will rectify the situation immediately by cutting off your right hand. Here, try moving your knee--no, no your _other_ knee--" he said in a voice slightly more high pitched.

"Like this?" Hermione tried to move her other knee. During the attempt, however, she lost her balance, and fell the entire way into Snape, with a tangle of limbs and hair. On the bright side, her knee was no longer in his groin. On the darker side, they were stuck together in a tangle of limbs and hair. And her knee was no longer in his groin.

"That's moderately better, yes. Now, if you don't mind, could you kindly kill me?"

"Oh, no. I'm not going to be magically attracted to a corpse--"

"Thank you for your assessment of my person. Ten points from Gryffindor, and another thousand for your incompetence which led to our current situation."

"Oh no! Not _my_ incompetence! You were the one who managed to defy all anti-apparition spells placed on Hogwarts and apparated to Voldemort's house! Who, I might add, was conveniently hosting Dumbledore, the rest of the Hogwarts staff, and half of the JK's cannon characters, to boot, for a tea party! Did something slip past you at the last Death Eater meeting?" Hermione tried to shove her knee further into his groin, remembered that her knee wasn't strategically located there anymore, realized that her crotch was, and blushed violently. 

"What ever you are doing, keep it up. My hands are nice and warm now, thank you. Now, if you could please stop wiggling around?"

"Could you please remove both hands from my chest?"

Snape shifted slightly. "Better?" he asked coolly.

"Down my pants was not an option."

"Yes, well, I believe it was your _friend_ Weasley's idea to blind fold us? I certainly can't see what I am doing."

"Ah," she returned, taking the moment to try to jam her knee back into his groin. Instead, she only managed to jam her crotch in his groin. Going by the sound Snape made, it had had relatively the same effect. "But it was your _master_ Voldemort's idea to tell us to get a room."

"I will not be held responsible for my actions if you deign to keep that up! Besides it was your _Headmaster_ who actually provided a room for us!"

"He's your _Headmaster_, too! And that was _after_ they put us in a mud pit!"

"Can you stop with the italicizing?" he growled, fending off the beginnings of a nasty headache and blatantly ignoring the fact that he had started the italicizing to begin with. "What is mud wrestling, anyway?"

Hermione whispered something in to his ear, and this time, it was Snape who blushed to his root tips. Or, at least, he would have, if he had a heart. However, the unfortunate truth was that he had given his heart to a dying dragon out of pity (actually, it was either that or let the dying dragon eat him), so his face remained as pale as it ever was. One would have thought that lacking a heart would complicate things (such as living, libidos, and the effects of libidos) but thanks to modern magic, references to ancient moves, and random plot holes, it hadn't.

Preferring not to ponder on such things, Snape began to mutter very anti-Fred and George things under his breath, which wandered to anti-Ron things, and, inevitably, anti-Harry things. And, just to be fair, he threw in a couple anti-Hermione words for good measure. One could not say that Snape was a man of no respect--oh, never mind. They could.

"What was that?" Hermione said through clenched teeth, and began another attempt to break free. "Could you say that a little louder? You were mumbling."

"What I believe my exact words were, 'bloodyFredandbloodyGeorgeandtheirbloodyMagicMagneticAttractionSpell--ouch!"

"Sorry," she said sweetly. "Well, anyway, that's what you get for opening _my_ gift for me from _my_ friends."

Snape snorted. "You call that a gift? Stay still, will you?"

"Well," she hissed, clearly not staying still, "the package did say, 'To Hermione. You didn't win the contest, but we hope this will bring more fun into your love life (or lack thereof).'"

"It looked like contraband."

"It looked like a present!"

"Ah, yes, didn't you hear or were you too busy Not. Paying. Attention? There is to be no foolish wand waving _or_ gift giving in my class."

"But I wasn't even in your class! And it was a Saturday, on top of everything!"

"Please, Miss Granger, refrain from using that pun while you are practically sitting in my lap." There was a distinct pause. "Could you please remove your crotch from my groin?"

"Only if you remove your hands from my pants."

They struggled for a few minutes, desperately clinging onto the headboard and backboard of the bed they were on, and tried to pry each other apart. The sound of fabric ripping put an end to their attempts, and Snape found himself suddenly lacking a robe and (even more incredible) three pairs of shirts. They were still very much stuck together. In fact, they seemed to be more stuck together than before. Hermione felt bare skin under her hands, and blushed. "Uh… Professor? You seem to be lacking--"

"Don't yell," he growled, "Your face is stuck to mine. I can hear you quite well as it is. And yes, I know that I missing half of my clothes. They were muddy anyway." He paused a moment. "Kindly remove your other hand. Down my pants is not an option, either."

"Oh, gods," Hermione muttered and blushed again. 

"No need to refer to me by my formal name. Professor works just fine."

"Let's try this again. I think I felt the magic starting to weaken."

They struggled a moment more, and once again the sound of ripping fabric was heard. 

"Hey! That was my shirt!" she hissed.

"I know," Snape purred. "Fair is fair."

"Yes, well, do you think that you could--ouch! Stop pinching me!"

"Pardon me. My mind was wandering and my hands decided to work on habit--brewing potions for a lifetime will do that to you."

"I'm sure," she muttered darkly. Really, she wasn't sure at all.

"Do you think you could--"

"No," she responded firmly. "The bra stays on."

"Oh. It's just rather itchy, is all, and we are blindfolded…"

"No."

"No?"

"No…"

"Well… what if I… Actually, if you would please reach your hand down…"

Not quite sure what he was going to do and not quite sure she wanted to know what he was going to do, Hermione tried to squirm away from his grasp. Now she was positive that wasn't a wand in his pocket. A banana, maybe, but a wand? "Like this?" she asked, her hand now stuck to his leg.

"Yes. NO. My wand is lodged in a very… uncomfortable… position. If you could reach into my right pocket and retrieve it, perhaps we could end this… embarrassing escapade?"

"Professor!"

"What? I would get it myself, but my hands are--"

"Firmly entrenched in my pants!"

He gave a helpless shrug and smirked slightly. "My wand, Miss Granger," he whispered into her ear in his silkiest voice. "Fourteen and three quarters inch, ironwood, with a dragon heartstring core to ensure extra… potency. It will certainly rectify this situation."

Despite herself, Hermione shivered slightly and reached her hand into his pocket. To her surprise (disappointment) she found that he indeed have a wand in his pocket. She pulled it out of his pocket, but before she could do anything with it, it slipped from her hands and onto the bed. She growled in frustration, and tried to blindly grab for it, but she lost her balance again and they both fell over, Hermione on her back and Snape right on top of her. And unless he for some odd reason had another wand in his pocket--

"No, that is not another wand; you may remove your hand from my pocket this instant, Miss Granger!"

"Oh… I was just making sure." She gave in an extra squeeze. "Could you please get off of me now?"

"Not without my *wand* which you have lost. And since I am blindfolded, I cannot find it."

"Is that a problem?"

His response was to painfully snap her bra, incredible, since she was on her back to begin with.

"You know, you could have just said yes. Oomf… You're heavy!"

"And you are… What in Merlin's name are you doing, girl?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" she asked through clenched teeth. "I'm trying to remove your blindfold."

"That is my earlobe."

She giggled.

The door opened, and Sirius Black, who had arrived late at the tea party and as thus had been the one sent on this mission entered, looking at a map, and began to speak. "Is this the six hundred and sixty sixth room? I guess so. Man this old Riddle House is such a maze--no wonder they needed a map! Hey, Snape, Granger, Voldemort and Dumbledore both say that your invitation to Voldemort's Tea Party with Weasley Entertainment clearly states that you two cannot spend the entire time secluded in a bedroom, and they wish you would come out and grace everybody with your prese-- OH MY GOOD BLOODY GODS! MY EYES! MAKE THE PAIN STOP!--" he screamed as he looked suddenly looked up from his map at the two lying tangled up on the bed. Unfortunately, it was about this moment that the Magic Magnetic Attraction Spell kicked in, and with a yank of magically magnetic goodness, Black was pulled forwards and crashed with a tangle of limbs into the already frustrated pair.

Silence prevailed for a few minutes. "Miss Granger," Snape said finally, "would you mind getting your knee out of my groin?"

A pause. "Um… Sorry… That's not me."

"Black?"

Another, somewhat longer pause, and then a grin. "Oh, but Severus, my dear, that's not my _knee…"_


End file.
